


worse ways to spend the day

by lokh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Menstruation, Queerplatonic Relationships, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 07:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4092190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokh/pseuds/lokh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which kenma makes his monthly sacrifice to satan and kuroo is there to help him through it. or, kenma suffers the dreaded period cramps and his portable space heater makes a visit</p>
            </blockquote>





	worse ways to spend the day

**Author's Note:**

> here kenma is a trans boy. at this stage, kuroo doesn't identify as anything but a cis boy, but does question it a lot and probably comes to identify as something else. here we go

“Hey, Kenma. You’re going to be late.”

When the unmoving lump on the bed remains unmoving, Kuroo isn’t surprised. When he steps closer and discovers that there _isn’t_ a hand-held console in the lump’s grip, _then_ Kuroo is worried.

“Kenma? You alright?”

He gets his hand within an inch of the lump when the huddle of blankets shift, and a mop of pudding hair emerges, sticking out every which-way. Kenma’s eyes droop with exhaustion, and while this in itself isn’t new, the rest of his face is scrunched up, taut with the tension of maintaining nonchalance.

“Period,” Kenma mumbles, words slurred and drawn out. “Cramps.”

“Oh,” Kuroo says. “Got it.”

It’s in a flurry of practiced footsteps that a small bottle of pain-relievers finds itself on the desk beside the bed, accompanied by a glass of water and a mildly concerned Kuroo. He watches carefully as Kenma reaches for the tablets with sluggish hands, entire body sagging.

“You’re not going to practice,” Kuroo says, and it’s more of an observation than it is a question. Kenma grunts, an affirmative, a negative – the point is, he’s not going anywhere any time soon. Once upon a time, Kuroo might have contested him on that. That was when he didn’t know how bad it could get.

“Do you want me to stay?” Kuroo asks, after a moment, keeping his voice quiet.

“Go to class, Kuro,” but it’s not a rejection, either. The mattress dips as Kuroo seats himself by Kenma. If he’s not playing any video games, then he must _really_ be in pain. Taking in the fact that Kenma keeps shuffling under the blankets, alternating between an upright fetal position and a face-down plank, it must be really, really bad. After a lengthy pause, Kuroo says, “I’ll get you some food later, so you don’t have to get up.”

There’s quiet breathing, muffled by thick fabric and pain, and eventually the swath of blankets shuffles towards him, draping itself over his thighs.

“No problem,” Kuroo says, only half-teasing in response to the unspoken words. Kenma only nuzzles closer. Kuroo pats him on the back consolingly.

Back when this first happened, it would’ve been unthinkable that Kuroo should be allowed so close to him. Not because he didn’t trust him, Kenma told him more than once (and more than once did Kuroo wonder if that was really the case regarding these matters). Most likely, it was due to a culmination of factors, ranging from Kenma himself trying to understand it better and Kuroo not knowing how to react appropriately and generally coming off as insensitive. Kuroo still doesn’t entirely understand (and maybe never will), and Kenma doesn’t seem all too willing to share on it, but they eventually build up a routine that they’re all comfortable with. A routine that mostly consists of anguished groaning and lying around, and also losing a lot at Mario Kart.

The gentle press of arms around his waist brings Kuroo out of his thoughts. Kenma sighs, and Kuroo pauses.

“Kenma,” he starts, carefully. “Are you wearing your binder?”

He’s trying to sound the least accusatory he possibly can, but it must not work because he can _feel_ Kenma frown against his stomach.

“I didn’t wear it to sleep,” he says, a little petulantly, and it’s all the confirmation Kuroo needs. Then Kenma is burying his face deeper, and he mumbles, “it makes me feel better.”

Kuroo’s mouth closes around his retort. The words hang painfully, awkwardly, leaving a vulnerable hole in its wake. Kuroo can’t help but feel that the awkwardness is _his_ fault. Kenma rarely shares his feelings, but this is one of those moments, and he’s probably regretting it already, if his attempts at self-burial are anything to go by. Kuroo can sort of understand why it’d make him feel better, but he also doesn’t, doesn’t really understand what it must _feel_ like, and probably those conflicting feelings coinciding are very similar to what Kenma must be feeling right now. All Kuroo knows is that right now, Kenma is really uncomfortable, and really in pain, and this is making him better. Right now, that’s all Kuroo really _wants_.

“You’re you no matter what, you know,” Kuroo says, abruptly, not quite expecting it himself. Fingers curl tightly into the back of his shirt and _goddamnit_ , what kind of response was he expecting from _that_? Where exactly does he get off telling people things they already know?

“Okay,” Kenma replies, words sounding strangely like ‘thank you’ against the cotton. Kuroo huffs, trying not to feel so warm at the words. When the hell did he become such a sap?

“You should take it off later, though,” Kuroo adds, if only to make it sound less like he would give Kenma literally anything on a silver platter, if only he should ask, and Kenma’s grumbled, ‘yeah, yeah’ is at odds with the way he relaxes so wholly against him.

He should really be worrying about class, about messaging the rest of the team about their absence, and he should really feel more guilty at his skimping on captain duties, but it all just seems to fade away as Kuroo moves to lie down, too, side sinking into the bed. The blankets moved to cover him as well seem like an afterthought, but Kuroo doesn’t mind, not really, not when Kenma gives a small huff of pleasure after settling against him, an arm draped across his chest.

“Just go back to sleep,” Kuroo says. “I’ve told your mom about you staying home already. We can eat when you feel a bit better.”

Kenma worms his head out of the blankets, looking up at him, and it’s the first time this morning that Kuroo’s gotten a proper look at him, that Kenma has actually _looked_ at him. His eyes are already hazy with sleep, but they’re also unbearably soft, gaze as warm as his disposition allows.

“Thanks, Kuro,” he says, almost a whisper.

Then his face immediately plops down onto his chest and he’s gone, fast asleep and dead to the world. Kuroo tries not to laugh.

The sun is bright and unhindered outside, and while he isn’t quite missing the ache of exercise and the drone of work, there are certainly worse ways to spend the day.

**Author's Note:**

> later kuroo finds out that you shouldn't sleep with a binder on and he silently flips his lid. don't sleep with binders on kids


End file.
